


The First Snow

by lookingforatardis



Series: Charmie Ficmas 2018 [1]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Holidays, M/M, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 07:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16806235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookingforatardis/pseuds/lookingforatardis
Summary: Armie and Timmy make a new tradition...





	The First Snow

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! It's time to officially start.... Ficmas! Subscribe to get notifications for the fics in the series :)

Tires slush through the streets as he makes his way home, hands tucked in pockets, ears red. He should have worn a hat, he can already hear the complaint before he even arrives, know his ears will be covered with marginally warmer fingers until they aren't so affected. He kicks his boots against the door and shivers when the warmth of the apartment hits him.

It smells like Christmas, he thinks idly with a slow smile. Nutmeg and cinnamon waft through the air as he removes his scarf and closes the door behind him. He toes off his shoes and shucks off his coat, all the while trying to contain his light laughter at the singing he hears from the kitchen. He'd grown used to the sound by now, something that once left him a little breathless now filling him with warmth. The apartment wasn't that large, they didn't want it to be. Like a little home, Timmy had suggested. Armie was more than happy to oblige. They had insisted on a fireplace when they looked at apartments, Timmy telling him he'd wanted one his entire childhood and how could he deny that? He's grateful for it now as he wanders over to its warmth, rubbing his hands together and placing them in the waves of heat radiating from the flames.

"Hey! When did you get home?" He turns to find Timmy with bright eyes walking towards him, a half apron covering his waist and flour on his pushed-up long sleeves. Armie smiles fondly and reaches out to kiss him when he nears, Timmy squirming away as quickly as possible. "Jesus, you're freezing! Did you forget a hat again?" he asks, hands covering Armie's ears.

Armie smiles and shrugs as he loops his arms around Timmy. "Maybe. Did you bake again?"

"What gave it away?" Timmy smirks, an eyebrow raised. Armie just laughs and presses his nose against Timmy's neck, earning a swat at his shoulder and a yelp. "Ah, stop it! Warm up you monster."

"Want to help?" Armie smirks, tickling Timmy's sides.

"Absolutely not. Last time I burnt the cookies because you needed 'help' warming up. And some of these are going to our neighbors because _someone_ got locked out and had to wait with them for an hour while we got a spare." Timmy does his best to look annoyed, but it's surface level and he can't help up run a hand through Armie's hair. They had only been in the apartment for a few weeks, and already it felt more like home than just about anywhere else ever had to either of them. Armie smiles sheepishly at the memory, which only makes Timmy roll his eyes with a smile. "Go change. I want to watch the snow," he says, turning Armie towards their room and slapping his ass.

"Hey!"

"You don't seem to respond to me asking nicely," Timmy shouts as he walks back to the kitchen with a single smirk over his shoulder in Armie's direction. When he re-emerges in a pair of thick flannel pajama pants Timmy bought him when they moved to the city and a knit sweater, Timmy's already curled up on their couch watching the snow fall with a mug of hot chocolate. Armie joins him silently and takes a sip from his mug, an arm going around Timmy's shoulders as Timmy covers his legs with the blanket he's brought to the couch.

It wasn't that he'd never seen snow before-- no, he'd had his fair share of snowy adventures over the years with family and friends. But this was different. They had a wall of floor to ceiling windows that overlooked this part of the city, and with the lights dim in their apartment, only the flickering of the fireplace and the city lights illuminated the scene. The flakes were larger, more mystical, here. He knew it would be a bitch tomorrow when it was all slush and ice, but for now, it's incredibly peaceful. Without ever communicating the thought, both decide tomorrow will be a lazy day inside.

Timmy leans his head against Armie for only a moment before a timer goes off and he jumps up after passing off his mug. Armie watches him go; the way his body moves in their little apartment never failed to overwhelm Armie, how his feet hit the carpet and tile, the way he'd rise up on his tiptoes to grab something from the top shelf despite not really needing to, how he'd come home with little things he'd bought at markets and thrift shops and find places for the mismatched pieces, weaving their home together in a way that dumbfounded Armie.

When he returns, he has a plate of what he called "Christmas" cookies, which as far as Armie was concerned was just a better version of snickerdoodles. They were the only kind he made so far. A few months ago, when they'd decided to move in together before the holidays, he'd decided he was going to learn how to bake specifically so their home would smell good. It was charming and disarming in a way Armie had grown to accept. Not to mention, he wasn't half bad at baking.

They sit together and watch the snow fall delicately outside for a while before Timmy breaks the silence. "This is the first time we've been together for the first snow of the season," he says softly. Armie's hand runs over his hair as he leans his lips against his temple, humming in acknowledgement.

"Then I guess it's also our first tradition," he replies. Timmy turns to him, arms wrapping around his neck with a small smile. "Cookies and snuggling every first snow. Deal?"

"I can live with that," Timmy nods, thinking ahead to when they'll have children to share this with. It's something he never knew he wanted so badly, creating traditions out of the simplest of things. They brought out a side of each other, a sentimental side, that had them creating traditions left and right. Their lives were quickly intertwining until nothing would be left but one strand of the both of their hearts. Timmy sways towards him and hums lightly, their eyes meeting in soft acknowledgment that this is, was, and would forever be more than they'd ever dreamed. Armie closes the distance between them, kissing Timmy softly as they daydream of the years to come.


End file.
